The Elder Scrolls: Fall of Tamriel
by WTAnderton
Summary: A story of adventure, love, betray, and the other usual stuff from fantasy novels. A unique story that takes place between Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. I hope you all enjoy, and please review!
1. Prologue

**The Elder Scrolls**

**The Fall of Tamriel**

**Book One: The Returning Hero**

**By: W. T. Anderton**

**Prologue:**

The newly established Moth Temple of the imperial province of High Rock was bustling with lively activity. It had taken several decades just to gain the permits to build the Moth Temple where the once fabulous Direnni Tower once stood. The tower, said to be the oldest standing structure in all of Tamriel, had fallen during the infamous Mage War. The Moth Temple, built because of the victory of the Imperial Legion, stood as a memorial for the climatic battle that resulted in the Breton feudal kingdoms fully being integrated into the empire. Now the Moth Temple was finally alive with activity from all of the eager priests and acolytes who were scrambling to all catch a glimpse at a newly arrived package.

General Thane, the man who had commanded the whole war between Cyrodiil and High Rock, watched over the whole gathering from a balcony that overlooked the courtyard. He smiled to himself and sighed softly, his breath steaming in front of him. Though the land of High Rock was usually temperate, the islands of the Iliac Bay even more so, the Mage War had scarred the land. Even the weather and climate had been directly affected by the decades old traces of powerful magic. It was the middle of the summer season and yet it felt to Thane like it was deep into one of Cyrodiil's winters.

High Priest Mutte, an elderly man who had been present during the battles and the final negotiations at the close of the Mage War, stepped up beside the general. He wore the long gray robes that marked him as a Moth Priest, one of those with the famed ability to read from the mystical Elder Scrolls. He carried with him a thick wooden staff that he used to lean on for support. "It seems everyone is excited about the new arrival, General Thane. Everyone but us, that is."

Thane looked at the old man, taking note of his slightly pale skin and naturally wavy hair that marked him as a Breton. "I never was one to accept changes lightly. A newcomer could only slow things down around here which the Imperial Legion cannot afford considering the war going on in Skyrim."

The Breton man chuckled, his long beard shaking slightly. "How goes the war in the north, General?"

The Imperial man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Though the Imperial Legion is not acting directly in the war, the Nords are not that happy with our presence either. We're either shunned completely from their towns or we're attacked on sight."

"The people of Skyrim have always been and always will be a brutish race with a history drenched in blood," the elder commented. Thane simply nodded his head and turned his attention back to the courtyard. The people were now gathering around what seemed to be a Dunmer, or Dark Elf as the Imperials preferred to call them, dressed in dark leather armor with a bow across his back. By the looks of things everyone was trying to ask him questions but the Dark Elf ignored them all and looked up to the balcony. Thane was slightly surprised when their eyes met and he felt a small sense of recognition. It was like he knew this man from some distant memory, or maybe from a long forgotten dream.

Thane stared in the man's eyes and in the depths of his red pupils he could almost make out what seemed to be words forming in his head. It was perhaps nothing more than an illusion spell, and so Thane tossed the thought aside. Just then Mutte spoke again. "The fool."

Before the general could ask his fellow veteran about what he meant, the Dunmer man pulled out a short sword that was concealed under the chest guard of his armor. The first one to fall to his blade was one of the young acolytes, the boy screaming as blood spilled from the wound in his stomach. Thane watched helplessly as the Dunmer carried himself forward, plunging his sword into one of the older priest's chest. One of the priests was about to launch a lethal fireball spell at the Dunmer assailant, but a crossbow bolt buried itself deeply into his spine. He collapsed to the ground with the fireball collapsing in on itself until it was completely gone.

Thane quickly followed the trajectory of the crossbow bolt and saw a trio of Dunmer dressed similarly to the original assailant jogging into the courtyard. "Four Dark Elves do not stand a chance against the Moth Priests of High Rock." Mutte spoke quietly, barely above a whisper. It was as if he was observing the whole battle just as intently as Thane was. The two of them continued to watch as a small band of experienced Moth Priests from the Mage War chanted in unison and summoned a swarm of skeletal soldiers into the battle. These fabricated though dangerous creatures attacked the Dark Elves with a barely contained ferocity. They wielded crude and rusted axes and clubs against the elegant and sharp blades of the elves, but their numbers alone overwhelmed the assailants.

The original Dunmer was the only survivor who now stood with his back against one of the walls surrounding the courtyard. He flourished two short swords now and his mouth moved wordlessly, and it was Mutte who realized first what the Dark Elf was doing. With a reflexive twitch of his hand the old Breton brought his staff up and slammed the tip back down on the ground. The whole earth trembled beneath Thane's feet and he feared that the whole foundation of the Moth Temple would collapse, but it was merely the tremors of the currents of magical energy that he felt.

Thane watched as the Dunmer's mouth stopped moving just as the tremors ceased, and a second later the elf's head was crushed like a grape between a troll's fingers. Brain matter and blood spilled in all directions from the elf's body and the survivors scrambled away to avoid being covered in the filthy fluids. It took a few moments before finally someone gathered the courage to search the man's body, and then he stood back up to look at Thane and Mutte. The elderly mage tapped his staff on the ground again and vanished in a swarm of what seemed to be gray feathers before reappearing in the same manner only a few feet from the corpse. Mutte was handed something that the man had retrieved from the Dunmer's body, and Thane knew exactly what it was by the look on Mutte's face. It was an Elder Scroll.


	2. Chapter 1

**~Part One~**

** "He is the Chosen Hero. He will shape the destiny of Tamriel with his hands, and though few will know his name, all will have their lives changed by him alone. The war for his life will shed blood, much of it his own, and even this will not gain him the respect of his people. He will be hated among his enemies and shunned by his friends, and still he will fight to save them all from the coming darkness. This boy will be known as the Hero among the Heroes, and none shall ever live to take this title from him. So it is written by those who command the Scrolls, and so shall it be until the fall of Tamriel."**

**- Excerpt from an Elder Scroll**

**Chapter One**

General Thane opened his eyes slowly as he woke from yet another sleep filled with odd dreams. It was just now a little less then two weeks since the incident where the Moth Temple had been attacked by four Dunmer assailants, and every night since that day he been dreaming of strange things. One night he had envisioned a vast landscape covered in ash where dark skinned people roamed and dug up the salvage of an only recently lost civilization. Another dream showed him a man with pale skin and golden hair leading a pack of wolves into a battle against fully armored soldiers. This night, however, it had all ended very differently than all the times before.

Each night had brought him these visions and they had ended in the complete and utter destruction of Tamriel as a whole. This time a lone figure was showed to him in a vision, and somehow this figure changed everything. The battles ended in completely different ways from the previous visions, and all of Tamriel was thus saved. Thane never got to see the figure's face, but by the build and height of the figure he could tell it was a young Imperial man. Perhaps only in his teens still. If that was the case, though, how could a teenaged boy change the fate of the entire world all by himself? The Nine Divine truly did work in strange ways sometimes.

A knock on the chamber door startled the general, but he quickly composed himself and stood up from his bed. He swiftly threw on a thick robe made from the furs of wild bears from the northern land of Skyrim and went to open his door. Thane was somehow not surprised to find Mutte standing on the other side of the door. "What do you want at this time of night?" He yawned after he spoke, trying to stifle it with a hand to his mouth. Mutte still notice and raised one of his eyebrows.

"At this time of day, most of us are already awake. It's nearly midday, General Thane." The news came as a shock to Thane. He quickly glanced to the window inside his bedchamber and through the thick curtains he could indeed make out sunlight. Mutte chuckled softly and politely nudged his way into the room past Thane. "It's quite alright, Thane. You and I both need as much sleep as we can get these days. The Nine know that Elder Scroll is keeping the both of us awake all night."

"Aye," Thane said with a nod of his head. He gently closed the door behind the old mage, crossing over to the fireplace where a tea kettle hung over the flames. "At least one of the servants was kind enough to set some tea for us earlier this morning."

"All without waking you. Quite a feat if you ask me." The both of them shared a couple of laughs at this. Thane then took the warmed tea and poured it out into two cups. He sat with Mutte at the broad desk in his room that was covered in a pile of papers all dealing with the Elder Scroll. Most of them were worthless sketches of star charts that they were able to draw off of the scroll, but none of it made any sense even to the most experienced of priests. The oldest and wisest of the moth priests at the temple, Gudo, said that it was as if the charts continued to shift even as he was looking at them. He described it as something no one had ever heard of: an incomplete Elder Scroll.

"So was Gudo able to make anything else out on any of the charts we gave him yesterday?" Thane was growing quite curious as to exactly what this Elder Scroll said. A feeling he had told him that it had something to do with the dreams he's been having.

Mutte took a sip of the tea and swallowed before speaking. "Yes, actually. Before he described the Elder Scroll as incomplete, but now he's changed his mind about that specific fact. The scrolls is, in fact, complete."

Thane watched the mage take another sip and they both sat there in awkward silence for a few moments. "Well? Then what is he describing it as now?"

"Oh yes, I almost forgot what we were even talking about." Thane gave his friend a concerned look, but Mutte waved it off. "Don't act so surprised, Thane. I am growing old after all." The mage cleared his throat after drinking down the rest of his tea, continuing to speak as Thane refilled his cup. "Anyways, Gudo now says that the Elder Scroll is layered. While an ordinary scroll would only have one piece of information to tell us, this one has several prophecies and such written on it. He believes that's why we've had so much trouble deciphering the charts."

"That would explain it." Thane nodded his head and emptied his own cup into his mouth before refilling it. Just as he set the pot back down on the desk the bells in the town only a mile from the Moth Temple began to chime, signifying the middle of the day. Mutte smiled and looked to the window as the bells played a slow and soft melody that Thane remembered from when he was a child. Then the mage's eyes widened a fraction, as if he had just remembered something.

"Before I forget, Tiram said that she wanted to speak with you before you try doing anything else today." Thane physically flinched at the mention of the woman's name. He never did like Tiram as a person, and after what happened between them when they last met in the Imperial City he thought he was through with her. Apparently he wasn't.

"Fine. Tell her that I'll see her when I have time. As it is I have a busy schedule teaching some of those young ones how to fight properly. That Dunmer attack sure put the fear of Oblivion into them." Mutte nodded his head, knowing better than to argue with Thane. The two of them stood up from the desk and clasped hands in an official though somewhat sincere embrace of friendship. "I'll meet back up with you once dinner is finished. Hopefully by then I should be able to tear myself from Tiram's talons."

Mutte laughed a little, patting Thane on the shoulder. "Perhaps it is you who should be the one going easy on her. Her father did just get arrested for conducting business with the Dark Brotherhood." The name itself of the guild of assassins sent chills down Thane's spine. A group of highly skilled and near invisible killers that worshiped their own dark deities would never have become that popular in the land of Tamriel. Perhaps the only ones who had even remotely accepted the Dark Brotherhood were the Dunmers of Morrowind, back in the days when that land was still considered a nation of its own.

Thane nodded his head slowly before turning towards the door. "I'll be sure to tell Tiram I'm sorry when I see her." With that said, the general and the mage both left the room.

**The town of Underhill**, given the literal name for it being located down the hill from the newly built Moth Temple, was a peaceful town. The worst fight had been when a Nord had come in from the war going on in Skyrim, got a little too drunk for his own good, and had his ass kicked by a young Imperial man. He was only seventeen though among those training for battle at the Moth Temple he was perhaps the most skilled for his age. Up there he was a prodigy that had no flaws, but in the town of Underhill he was nothing more than a thief. Today was one of his robbery days, and it had gone terribly wrong. He was being chased down by guards armed with spears when all he had on him was a foot long dagger.

He ran through the streets of Underhill, pushing people out of his way as he tried to escape the guards pursuing him. Many of the people shouted foul words at him but he paid no heed to them. Being called those names all of his life somehow had gotten him used to it. He wore a simple black outfit with a sackcloth hood and a cloth mask that covered the lower half of his face, and the combination had effectively concealed his identity from everyone so far.

As the boy ran through the street, he was forced to dodge a club when a street vendor owner tried stopping him with a blow to the head. The club, instead, connected with an expensive looking pot on the stall beside the club-wielding man's own vendor. An argument broke out between the two owners, but still the thief ran on. A few of the guards stopped to sort out of the business between the vendor owners, leaving only four guards to chase down the boy that should have been caught by now.

The boy took a glance behind him and turned a sharp corner, then took another turn quick enough that he was out of sight before the guards were able to catch up. He slowed a little at the sense of brief security and was about to make the final turn to lose the guards when an old man stepped out and tripped him. The thief fell to the ground hard and felt his chin collide with the solid stone road, his jaws smacking together painfully. He glanced upward and though the edges of his vision were growing dark he could still see the old man grinning down at him. "Not so fast there, Ellum. You're not escaping your fate that easily." The guards were not far behind now and two of them roughly pulled the boy up onto his feet. Iron shackles slammed shut over his wrists and one of the guards muttered a word which sealed the shackles so that any and all of the thief's magical abilities were negated.

"Thank you for the assistance, sir." The guard who was apparently the leader of the group gave a quick and somewhat mocking salute to the aged man. The man simply nodded his head before the guards began to drag the thief towards the prison on the south end of Underhill.

**Thane let his eyes roam** over all of the assembled students in the courtyard, each one of them wielding a wooden sparring sword. They had just finished their practice drills on each other and now it was time for the real lesson. Throughout the practice sparring, however, Thane knew someone was missing. It didn't take him long before he knew who it was. It was Ellum, the prodigy he had so much faith in. He sighed softly and decided that it would be best at this point to just continue with the lesson with or without the boy.

"Good afternoon, class. During today's lesson I will be teaching you all how to effectively defend yourself against several opponents. Someday you might face a true enemy in combat, and they will not fight fair. If they have the advantage of numbers then they will overwhelm you. I am going to teach you a way to at least survive if not win over them. After all, you can at most times use the enemy's advantage and turn it into their own disadvantage." The class listened intently to their teacher's words. He looked at each one of them before grabbing the hilt of his sword.

The moment the sword left the sheath, the students began to mutter amongst themselves. This was the first time they had seen a real sword up close. "I will be an example for you all to learn from. Come at me as you wish, and I swear I will defeat you all." The students were a little reluctant, but one of the more active ones charged forward with his wooden sword raised.

Thane stepped aside, easily dodging the student's wild and untrained charge, and slapped the flat of his blade against the back of the kid's neck. The kid stumbled forward a ways before catching himself. He charged again and this time another of the students joined him. Together they came at Thane from both sides. Just as they both lunged forward, the general ducked down and their wooden swords collided together. Thane then tapped the edge of his sword against one student's throat. "Down!" He then spun around, tapping the second student's stomach with the edge. "Down!"

The two students obediently retreated from General Thane, standing aside and watching a group of five students then rush at him. Those who were still watching stood amazed as they watched Thane dodge, parry, and trade blows with each student. Each time the flat of his blade smacked someone in the back of the neck or the edge of his sword tapped against an open area on their body, Thane called out the down command with meant the student was killed in the training session. All five students had been defeated in less than five seconds.

A stunned silence enveloped the whole class, all of them staring at their teacher with a mixture of awe, respect, and fear. Thane met the eyes of each student before realizing that he still had a solid grip on his sword. He glanced down and quickly sheathed the weapon, clapping his hands together. "Alright then, class. Now that the demonstration is over I will now teach you all the fundamentals of self-defense against several opponents."

**Ellum grunted** as he was thrown onto the stone floor of the prison cell. The guards who had carried him all the way to the jail called him a rather rude name and they both chuckled, slamming the jail bars shut and locking the cell up. They then walked off and the instant they were out of sight Ellum was on his feet. He quickly looked around the cell he was in but found nothing more than a rotten desk, a single stood, and bowl with a spoon. Ellum then remembered something and quickly checked the folds of his robes, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized the guards had been stupid enough to not even check him for weapons. He pulled out the dagger and quickly removed his cloak, making it a pile in the corner of the cell where he could hide his dagger.

This left him in only his shirt and trousers, and he also kept the cloth mask over his mouth. He didn't want anyone finding out who he was just yet. After making sure his dagger was hidden effectively yet still within easy reach, Ellum stepped up to the bars of the cell. He tested them but found that they were solid and showed no signs of aging or rust. Because of his shackles he wouldn't even be able to use his magic to help him escape. "I could have told you it would be no use trying to escape, boy." Ellum turned around quickly, though no one else was inside of his cell. There were also no other cells close by that held prisoners inside of them.

"It's no use trying to find me either. I'm not even inside the building at the moment." Then Ellum realized where the voice was coming from. It was coming from inside his head. Then the voice spoke again, as if sharing the realization. "That's right, boy. I'm using magic to contact you through telepathy. It's an ancient and mostly forgotten art, but there are those of us who can still pull it off."

"What do you want with me then?" Ellum had not survived several years as a thief by trusting everyone, and he wasn't going to spread his trust blindly now either. Then the owner of the voice chuckled.

"All in due time, my little friend. All in due time."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Thunder rumbled from the dark clouds massing together over the Moth Temple, and Thane cursed under his breath. He was going to have to cut class short and that was never a good thing when you were teaching someone how to survive in battle. It couldn't be helped though. Ever since the Mage War the weather in all of High Rock had been dangerously unstable. Worst of all, the infamous ash storms that had once blighted the land of Morrowind had made a return in this land. The ash storms in Morrowind had been caused by an evil creature beneath Red Mountain, the central geographic formation of Morrowind. This time no one knew where all the ash was coming from, but when the ash came it was important that no one was exposed to it.

The strange part about the whole situation was that the moth priests had compiled a weather chart for the next few months, and no ash storms had been predicted in that amount of time. Thane decided to leave the topic aside and switched his attention to something more important at the time. Tiram wanted to speak with him, so that is what he was going to do. Most of the people were escorted to their rooms before the priests returned to their own quarters to weather out the ash storm. This meant that General Thane had a very uneventful walk through the bleak corridors as he headed for Tiram's bedchamber. Just as he turned corner that led to yet another corridor, Thane suddenly stopped. Something wasn't right here. It was like a whisper from an ancestral spirit. Close enough to scrape against your nerves but far beyond the edge of hearing. It was like that now, and so the general carefully drew his sword out of its sheath.

Though most mundane weapons could not affect an undead creature such as a spirit, Thane's sword had been enchanted during its forging and thus dealt a blow lethal to both the living and the dead. The general advanced further down the corridor and felt his breath catch as a swift gust of cold air swept past him. It had felt to him like the fingers of Sithis himself, the ruling deity of the Dark Brotherhood who was said to be of the void, had grabbed at his soul. He immediately grew very still and crouched down beside the wall. The whispers continued but they now grew louder, and now he was able to make out some of the words. They were taunting and mocking in nature, and the voice speaking them changed often.

Then the voices screamed wordlessly and in unison, and the flames that lit the corridor flared up normally. The previous coldness that had surrounded Thane faded and he was left standing in the middle of the corridor clutching his unsheathed sword. He continued to stare at the far wall as he tried thinking of what that could have meant. Just as he was about to grasp a thought, the only mortal he was afraid of appeared in the corridor. "There you are!" Tiram's voice echoed through the abandoned corridor. The Imperial woman with long brown hair and pale skin made her way quickly to Thane and grabbed onto his arm. "I've been waiting for you, General Thane. You've come just in time for some tea." Thane rolled his eyes silently as he felt himself be pulled away to Tiram's room.

**As the ash storm** ripped through the Moth Temple and its neighboring town of Underhill, a lone figure stood at the crest of a hill that overlooked it all. His eyes glimmered from the fading rays of the sun as the ash storm expanded. Though the novices in the arcane and forgotten arts of magic would have feared the ash storm growing out of their control, this man feared nothing. He was destined for greatness, the Elder Scrolls had said so. He had gone through all seven trials and though he was still a stranger among the people of this world, the fate of all of Tamriel rested in his hands.

The man looked towards the town of Underhill, focusing his attention on the prison. The boy who was imprisoned there would need to be set free if his plans were to work. A swift current of magic washed over the man's body and he felt a pull. An inexperienced mage would be reluctant to let themselves succumb to the pull of teleportation magic, but he was a master. A small smile spread across his face as he saw in his mind's eye the boy who would either save or destroy Tamriel. He heard the boy ask a question, and he answered the boy aloud. "All in due time, my little friend. All in due time." His smile grew wider as he watched the ash storm gather over the Moth Temple and Underhill. Soon their would be a battle here, and then the true war for Tamriel would begin.

**Tiram's room**, compared to Thane's own personal bedchamber, was very elaborate and decorated. On both her nightstand and her desk she had urns of colored water that reflected the light from the torches beautifully. There were also pots of flowers scattered artistically about the room, complimenting all three of the portraits of Tiram's father that hung in the room. Each portrait had the old war hero in some heroic pose, and in one of them the old general was leading the charge of Imperial soldiers against a wave of Breton mages. Thane sneered at that picture in particular. The man leading that charge was him, not Tiram's father. That wasn't what Tiram had told the Elder Council though when she had been given the task to deliver some letters to the Imperial City.

Tiram seemed to notice that his attention was diverted, and cleared her throat. "I can hardly believe you are still upset about that, General Thane." Her tone was a mocking one and Thane found himself greatly annoyed by it. Though his sword was now sheathed again he still gripped the hilt tightly.

"How can I forget when I was the one who led that charge against the Breton? I lost a lot of good soldiers that day, not to mention my own brother." Tiram physically flinched at the mention of her lost fiance. She took a deep breath and sat in a chair, clasping her hands together.

"I know, Thane. For the hundredth time I apologize, but my mind was clouded when I delivered the message to the Elder Council. I had no idea that they thought my father was the one leading that charge. If I had known that they would have thought that then I would have told them the whole story." Thane couldn't help but roll his eyes. This was how Tiram had defended herself every time they had spoken with each other. It was starting to become pathetic.

"I'm guessing you didn't invite me here to open up old wounds, or are we just reliving the past as usual?" The two Imperial soldiers glared at each other for a few silent moments. Finally Tiram took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Thane suspected it was a technique the woman used to calm herself before speaking.

"Your presence is required in the Imperial City, ordered by the Elder Council itself." Thane raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner, but Tiram seemed to anticipate his question before he could say anything. "The emperor is currently away on official business with the people of Valenwood. He will be away for several weeks, but I assure you that the Elder Council is able to maintain the empire during his leave. The Nine know that they've had to do it before." Thane knew what she was speaking of. The infamous Oblivion crisis had scarred not only the land but also the people of Tamriel for several generations to come.

"For what purpose does the Elder Council require my presence there in the Imperial City? I thought they wanted me to stay here until all the new recruits had been trained properly." Tiram was about to answer him when there came a knock at her door. She excused herself and opened the door, and in walked Mutte.

"I apologize for the interruption," the old mage said quickly and breathlessly before bowing apologetically to them both. "But it's urgent that Thane comes with me to speak with Gudo. He's discovered more about the Elder Scroll." Thane looked to Tiram for some sort of permission, and the woman reluctantly nodded her head. He and Mutte then quickly left the room to find Gudo.

**Ellum knew instinctively** that he was stuck in a touch situation. He was imprisoned with no way to escape, and it was only a matter of time before the guards returned to learn his identity. At least he still had his dagger in case he needed to protect himself. He had heard stories of the guards in the Underhill prison being quite abusive to the prisoners from some of his thieving colleagues. So tense was the atmosphere of the prison that when he heard the door from the offices open he instinctively went for his cloak and dagger.

A guard stepped up to the cell door and unlocked the door, stepping aside to allow a young boy carrying a large pot of stew to enter the cell. Ellum silently watched the boy as he walked in and filled the bowl on the table with the stew before exiting without a word. The guard eyed Ellum with a threatening glance, and the very look sent shivers up the thief's spine. He had never seen such evil in a mortal's eyes before. It was like the guard wanted to kill him. By the look he had given him, Ellum did not doubt it.

"Did you notice that stew boy who entered the cell?" It was the stranger's voice that spoke inside Ellum's head.

The young man could not help but roll his eyes. "Of course I did."

"Very good. That is your way out of that jail cell. Tomorrow I will help you escape, and I will provide the distraction for the guards. I'll also be sure to influence the guards to hire a new stew boy that looks more like you." Ellum looked to the barred window of his small cell and saw that an ash storm was gathering outside. The stranger then spoke softly and in a soothing manner. Ellum found his words relaxing, and soon curled up in his cloak and shut his eyes. "Sleep for now, my little friend. I shall protect you through the night." The sleep that came to the young thief was dreamless, and yet he slept soundly for the whole night.

**The moment that Thane** entered the study where Gudo spent almost all day in, he knew something was wrong. It wasn't too long after that he and Mutte both found the problem. Gudo, the oldest priest in the whole Moth Temple, lay on the ground with a hand to his throat. Blood spilled out heavily from a deep wound, covering his hand and pooling on the ground beneath him. Thane rushed forward and knelt beside the dying priest. Luckily there was still a flicker of life left in his eyes, and so the general leaned in close. "What happened here, Father Gudo?"

Though it was obvious that the priest could not spare the energy to speak, he rose his free hand to point at the desk he had done most of his work at. Thane looked to Mutte and nodded his head. Fortunately his old friend understood the message and left the room quickly to find a healer. Meanwhile Thane gently laid Gudo's head on a pillow from the study's lounging section, and examined the desk for anything of interest.

"Looking for this?" A voice from the shadows immediately grabbed at Thane's attention. He turned around quickly and unsheathed his sword. An instant later the hilt turned red and a searing heat came from it, burning the general's hand enough to make him drop the weapon out of instinct. Out of the shadows stepped forward a tall man. He was dressed in a full leather outfit with a shadowy hood. Hiding the intruder's face was a featureless mask, and in the man's left hand Thane noticed what Gudo had been wanting him to retrieve. It was the Elder Scroll.

"Hand that back to me before I have you arrested for stealing property of the imperial province of High Rock." To much of Thane's annoyance, the stranger chuckled as if at a joke.

"The Elder Scrolls are the property of no man. They were never meant to be read by us mortals. That is why whoever reads them is struck with blindness after consistent readings. I admit you all were wise to take turns reading from the scroll so that the risk for this effect was lowered, but I stand beside my first statement. I will take this scroll where it will be safe so that its contents cannot be used to shape differently what is meant to be." Thane took a step toward the man, his hand now on the hilt of a dagger on the back of his waist. He waited until he was close enough to strike and then ripped the dagger out of its sheath, stabbing forward at the stranger.

The intruder stepped aside to dodge the stabbing attack and brought his hand down on Thane's extended elbow. The blow landed hard enough that it forced the general to release his grip on the dagger, and then the stranger swept his foot underneath Thane. This tripped the general and made him fall to the floor with a hard impact that knocked the wind out of him. "Who are you?" The general asked once he caught his breath.

"A hero of the people." The stranger made a hand motion with his empty hand, and the general recognized it as a teleportation spell. Thane saw that the Elder Scroll was within reach and lunged for it. He grabbed it and ripped it out of the intruder's hand, and just then Mutte entered the study again with a healer behind him. Thane heard the stranger curse under his breath and step back into the shadows. Then a gust of wind that he heard more than felt passed through the room, and when Mutte rushed forward to confront the intruder he met only a solid wall.

"Who in Oblivion was that?" The healer asked curiously. Thane sat up and accepted his friend's hand gratefully to help him stand. When he was back on his feet he brushed himself off and handed the Elder Scroll to Mutte.

"I have no idea, but he was foolish enough to try and steal this. He called himself a hero of the people." Mutte looked at the Elder Scroll, as if inspecting the parchment for any rips. The healer cocked his head to one side in a questioning way. Thane simply shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't understand him either. He just said that the scroll didn't belong in the hands of mortals."

"Many people would say anything to get their hands on an Elder Scroll. These scrolls were gifts from the gods, though. If not for the mortals, then who are the scrolls meant for?" Mutte seemed truly intrigued now.

"I'm not sure, but we shouldn't stand around and ask ourselves questions all night. We should help out Gudo first." Thane hadn't noticed that the healer had already examined Gudo, and so the man slowly and sadly shook his head.

"Father Gudo, I am sad to say, is dead." Thane and Mutte both fell completely silent. The air grew cold and for the first time Thane realized just how dark it was in the study.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The forests of Valenwood were quieter than they had been in the past year on the day that Emperor Idu Thudom and his personal entourage of soldiers hiked to the northern city of Arenthia. A skilled soldier of the Imperial Legion, given the name Molen, held the shaft of his bow tightly and scanned the vegetation that surrounded the advancing column of soldiers on all sides. He didn't like how quiet the forest was at this time of day. It was growing late into the evening and animals by now would be very active, but so far they hadn't heard a thing. Molen could tell even the emperor, who was seated upon a throne carried by a total of six soldiers, was suspicious of the silence.

The purpose behind the emperor's presence in the south-western kingdom of Valenwood was simply political. The Bosmer, or Wood Elves as the Imperials often called them, had broken away from the Empire during the end of third era and early into the fourth era they had taken up their own government that they called Thalmor. On several attempts the emperors before Thudom had attempted to wipe out the Thalmor and reclaim Valenwood as imperial territory, but every attempt had failed utterly. Even when the imperial provinces of Summerset Isle and Elsweyr had joined with the capital province of Cyrodiil, Valenwood and the Thalmor had survived wave after wave of enemy invaders.

Emperor Idu Thudom, who had ascended to the role of emperor after the previous imperial family of Mede had died out completely, now went about the whole situation with much more logic. He was planning on meeting with members of the Thalmor and together would set up an agreement where Valenwood would not be considered imperial territory but that the empire would come to Valenwood's aid if the Bosmer nation did the same whenever the empire requested it. One of the leaders expressed the Thalmor's interest, and so now they traveled swiftly to meet with them in a place called Falinesti. According to the few legends of the Bosmer that Molen knew from memory, Falinesti was a city based inside a mile tall tree that was said to migrate according to the seasons. For the past several decades, however, the walking tree had been motionless and this was odd even to the Bosmer.

The Imperial Legion's guide, a Khajiit named Adurhja, walked a good distance ahead of the whole column. The feline humanoid was given the task to not only guide the soldiers but to also scout ahead for any traps of ambushes that could have been set up by the Bosmer. Whenever the Khajiit slipped behind a tree up ahead, Molen could feel himself tense up even more. It wasn't necessarily from the fear of a trap springing, but rather from the fear of his best friend getting hurt. He and Adurhja had been close ever since they were young and nothing could separate one of them from the other.

Not only was it the tension that was starting to get to all of their heads, but it was also the weather. Valenwood was known for having tropical weather, and the fully armored soldiers used to the temperate climate of Cyrodiil were suffering in the humidity and heat. Then Adurhja appeared from behind the tree and the whole column stopped in its tracks. They all looked to their guide for any news on the state of the path ahead, and the Khajiit gave a simple nod of his head. With a noticeable sigh of relief from every single soldier, the column began to advance again. Molen cursed at the whole situation inwardly. It was going to be a very long day.

**It was hours later** before the soldiers finally got sight of Arenthia. A few of the men cheered and took celebratory gulps from their water flasks. Molen wasn't among those who were celebrating. He knew that their presence in Valenwood was only beginning, for it would take as much as several months to close the deal with the Thalmor. At the very least it would be a handful of weeks. The Bosmer had only won their independence through long years of bloodshed and were betrayed by the Summerset Isle, who they once had an alliance with. They were not going to make another alliance as easily, and it would still be an unstable alliance at that.

"Molen! Take your Khajiit friend and scout out the town for potential dangers to the emperor. We'll maintain a good distance from the city for protection." It was one of the commanders who spoke to him, and Molen nodded his head before giving a quick salute. He walked towards his friend who was busy grooming twigs and leaves out of his fur. Adurhja looked up at him as he approached, noticing him long before a ordinary man would.

"Adurhja's friend approaches much quieter than other soldiers would. Something troubling you, my friend?" The Khajiit's accent was native to the cat race's homeland of Elsweyr, sounding like a mixture of a hiss and a purr. Molen smiled and slowly shook his head. He was careful to try and smother all physical evidence of his nervousness, because Khajiits communicated with body language as much as they did verbally.

"It's nothing, Adurhja. I'm just not used to the climate here." Molen's friend stared at him for a few moments, as if judging him with his eyes, then nodded his head.

"Very well, my friend. Adurhja cannot help but worry about his dearest friend." With that said, the pair of soldiers marched into the city. Arenthia, being close to the border of two other nations, was where the Imperials from Cyrodiil, the Khajiits of Elsweyr, and the natives of Valenwood all came together. Though this was the case, the Imperial Legion soldier and the guide both got suspicious glares from just about everyone as they stepped through the half-paved roads. The guards of the city were made up of mostly Bosmer males dressed in toughened leather armor. They wielded long spear-like weapons with short bows strapped over their shoulders, and a quiver of arrows hung from each of their belts. "Adurhja does not like the looks they are giving us, friend."

Molen quickly shushed his companion and took a quick look around at the buildings. Archers armed with long bows were stationed on the roof of almost every building, but that would make sense. The Bosmer would go through anything to protect the Thalmor. While Molen was distracted, he felt a body bump into his and heard the swiping of his coin pouch. He turned quickly and caught sight of a young Bosmer male walking away from him, Molen's money purse filling one of his hands. He was about to unsheathe his sword and call out the order to halt, but then he remembered that the empire had no authority here in Valenwood anymore and drawing a weapon would draw unnecessary attention.

A second later and Adurhja pushed past Molen, his mouth drawn back to bare his teeth in a menacing manner. "No one steals from this one's friend." The Bosmer thief seemed to hear this and broke into a ran towards a group of guards. Before Molen could say anything, his Khajiit companions was bounding after the thief. The two of them were equally matched in speed and agility, dodging and weaving through the crowd of people in the streets, but then Adurhja took advantage of his feline nature. He ducked down onto all fours and sprinted forward with all of the speed his tensed muscles could spare. Molen sensed rather than saw fear overcome the Bosmer, and the thief knocked over a man carrying a supply crate in desperation.

Any normal man would have tripped over the fallen man, but Adurhja simply leaped aside of the spill. This made the Khajiit collide with the wall, but he was so agile that he leaped off the wall with much more momentum than he had before, and this allowed the guide to tackle the thief before he reached the guards. Molen caught up to them a few seconds later, trying his best to catch his breath. Adurhja snatched the money pouch out of the Bosmer's hand and was about to toss it back to Molen when suddenly they both were faced with ten spear heads surrounding them on all sides. "You are under arrest, under the authority of the Thalmor. Remove your weapons and you will be escorted to our local prison." Faced with inescapable odds, the two servants of the empire had no choice but to comply.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The next morning found the Moth Temple and Underhill still surrounded by a strong ash storm. Thane stood at the window of his bedchamber and sighed. He hadn't slept all night, and what happened the previous evening played repeatedly inside his head. He could hardly believe that Gudo, who he had known years before the Mage War had even started, was dead. Mutte and Tiram sat in the room with him, each of them holding a cup of herbal tea said to calm both the mind and body. It had been recommended by the healer, but it did very little to help relax Thane.

"At least we still have the Elder Scroll," the mage said.

"Yes, but at what cost? We have lost who was perhaps the only man in all of High Rock who understood what this scroll was hiding." Thane sighed and stepped away from the window, moving over to the fire to warm himself. Mutte and Tiram both watched him intently, as if they expected something to happen. He watched the flames for a few seconds before taking another deep breath and turning towards Mutte. "How foolish would it be to hunt down the assassin and kill him?"

Mutte looked a little shocked by the question. "Very foolish, in my opinion. Not only would you be putting everyone here in danger by your absence but if he had the ability to sneak in here without any of us noticing and then assassinating Gudo, of all people, then I doubt you would be able to defeat him." The old mage took a sip from his tea and cleared his throat, reaching up with his free hand to stroke his beard thoughtfully. "Though I do believe there was something in the Elder Scroll that mentioned something alone these lines. Perhaps we should go over Gudo's notes one more time before giving up all hope of catching this murderer."

Thane nodded his head and took a seat on the edge of his bed. He had already known it would be foolish before he asked Mutte. When he had tried just a handful of hours before to fight the intruder, he had failed. He hadn't even been able to injure the man, but Thane's hand was wrapped in ointment soaked bandages made by the healer. The general looked at his bandaged hand and then looked to his old friend again. "What about what he called himself? A hero of the people. Could that mean anything?"

Mutte nodded his head. "It could, if we take it literally." Thane looked at him with a curious look, but it was Tiram who finished the answer.

"I am sure you remember the legends that we learned in school about the Elder Scrolls and their counterparts. The mortals that could shape their own destiny for themselves, or Heroes as we more commonly know them as, were always closely related to the scrolls. These Heroes were often given titles which were used more often than their actual names. For example, the Hero who lived during the final years of Uriel Septim's reign. The Hero of Kvatch was a more common title, and even that later developed in the Divine Crusader, and finally the Madgod." Tiram took a sip of her tea this time and looked to Mutte. The mage nodded his head, permitting her to continue. "There was a Hero back in Morrowind that was commonly known as the Nerevarine, otherwise known as the Hero of the People."

It was then that it struck him. Thane could hardly breath and his hands begun to shake. "You're meaning to tell me-"

"Yes, Thane," Tiram said before he could finish. "We may very well be dealing with the new Nerevarine."

**Ellum opened his eyes** tiredly as he heard a key unlocking his cell. He looked up and saw the boy with the stew pot walk in. Like yesterday, the guard that accompanied the boy stepped aside and stood watch at the entrance to the cell. The young thief remembered what the stranger had told him and noticed that this stew boy did look a lot more like himself. Just as the boy stepped forward to fill Ellum's bowl, the stranger spoke. "This is your chance, Ellum. It's still early in the morning so the guards won't respond as quickly. Move!"

Out of pure instinct, as if he didn't have any control over his own body, Ellum stepped forward and kicked the boy's knee. The stew boy was about to scream from the pain, but the thief slipped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Unfortunately the pain still made the boy drop the large pot. The sound caught the guard's attention, and he turned just in time to see Ellum snap the boy's neck. He growled wordlessly before ripping his sword from its sheath and charging into the cell. Ellum smiled and leaped back to this cloak and retrieved his already unsheathed dagger from the pile. The guard wasn't expecting him to fight back and so what followed was easy enough.

While the guard was charging at Ellum with his sword held up for a swing, the thief jumped aside so that the heavily armored guard ran into the wall. Then the boy stepped and slammed his dagger through the back of the guard's throat. This kept the guard from screaming out and instead he let out a muffled gurgle before collapsing to the ground beside the dead stew boy. "Sorry I had to do this, but I can't afford to be locked up right now." Ellum spent the next couple of minutes stuffing the guard's body under his pile of cloaks and switching his clothes with that of the stew boy's. He then picked up the stew pot after tucking his dagger away inside his pants.

"That was very impressive, young friend. Now just walk out like nothing ever happened and let me take care of the rest." Ellum nodded his head to the invisible presence before heading out of the cell. The guards who stood at attention outside the door that led into the main visiting area seemed to not even notice Ellum, and so he turned down another hallway from the main room to what he hoped was the kitchen. The boy had to mentally congratulate himself because less than a minute later he was warmly greeted by a rather tall and wide Imperial wearing a cooker's outfit.

"There you are, boy! I was growing worried that one of the guards drafted you already," the cook said with a deep chuckle.

Ellum smiled and shook his head. He then set the stew pot down on the counter. He didn't want to risk speaking out loud in case the cook noticed the difference. The large man still gave him a curious look and took a peek inside the pot. "That prisoner must have been starving this morning. He sure got a lot to eat today." The thief cursed silently. He couldn't just walk out, but he couldn't give a verbal answer.

Finally, Ellum shrugged his shoulders. The cook narrowed his eyes and then he gasped, grabbing a nearby knife. "You're not the stew boy I sent in there. You're an intruder!" The boy blinked in surprise and backed away while grabbing at his knife.

"How do you know that? I look just like him." The invisible man mumbled something inside of his head, and suddenly the cook grew very still. He choked and dropped the knife before falling to his knees. Ellum watched helplessly as the cook grabbed at his throat as if he were strangling himself. He was then horrified to see blood pouring out of the cook's mouth. It was like this for a several seconds before finally the cook fell over. Blood pooled around him, but Ellum knew he was already dead.

A soft whimper caught his attention and he saw someone he hadn't noticed at first. It was the cook's assistant. This time Ellum cursed out loud and unsheathed his dagger just as the boy turned to run away. The thief took a step forward and with the same instinct that let him kill the guard and original stew boy, he threw the dagger. The weapon hit the boy's back right where his spine was and he immediately fell to the floor. It didn't take long for him to stop twitching and lie still. Ellum took a few deep breaths, and then something dreadful happened.

"What happened here?" It was one of the other guards. He was standing in the doorway, looking upon the bloody scene with wide eyes.

"Let me handle him, boy." The voice then took on a more menacing tone. Not only that, but it spoke in a language that Ellum hardly understood. He could only comprehend a couple of the words said, and even those he was not certain of. The guard seemed to notice the voice now too as he was frantically looking in every direction in search of the voice's owner. Ellum just stood there and watched as one of the windows of the kitchen shattered and a strong gust of wind rushed in with enough force to stab through the guard's armor and body.

Blood splattered over the walls and the young thief suddenly felt dizzy. He had never once seen this much blood, and he had seen five people die in the fast few minutes. Most of those had been murdered by his own hands. The room became blurred and all the sounds around him became muffled as mass amounts of blood rushed to his brain. He tried to comprehend everything that was going on, but nothing made sense. Who was this strange man that was helping him, and _why_ was he helping him? What was it exactly that the cook had recognized in him?

"There's no time to think about all of that now, boy. You need to get out of there. Grab a cloak and run out the back door." The voice still spoke clearly, and Ellum decided it was best to obey it for now. He stumbled over towards the back door of the kitchen and grabbed one of the cloaks hanging near it. It fitted him loosely, meaning it was most likely the cook's, but he decided there was no time to be picky. He quickly fetched his dagger from the dead boy's spine and sheathed it before leaving the prison complex entirely. When the door closed behind him, and after he slipped a face mask over his mouth to block out the ash storm, everything slowly shifted back to normal. He saw clearly and everything around him acted as if nothing had just happened. He could just barely hear the patrol whistles of the guards as they ran for the kitchen, but Ellum decided to give them a tough time trying to catch him. So, for the first time in his whole life, Ellum ran for the gates that led out of town.

**Thane looked up** when he heard the whistles coming from Underhill. He knew that sound well back from when he served in the Imperial Legion back in Cyrodiil. It was the whistle the guards used whenever a prisoner escaped from the jail. "This day just keeps on getting better. First we find Gudo dead and nearly lose the Elder Scroll, and then we think we may be dealing with the new Nerevarine. Now, there's an escaped prisoner. He may be a serial killer for all we know."

"Or a petty apple stealing thief," Mutte pointed out with a cheerful tone. Thane looked at the old mage. He seemed to get the point and lowered his head.

"Perhaps we should ride to Underhill and help out the guards there. It'll at least give us all something to do to take our minds off of everything else that's happened so far today," said Tiram. Both the mage and the general looked to her. Thane could hardly believe what she was saying.

"Is that your answer to everything, Tiram? To run away from it? You ran back to Cyrodiil to avoid your fiance's death. Then you came back here to run away from the news of your father's death. _Now_ you want to forget about Gudo's death! The least we can do is mourn out of respect for the man for all he's done for us." Thane ducked down just as Tiram tried to slap him across the face. He then reached up and grabbed her hand tightly. They glared wordlessly into each others eyes. Mutte stood up from his chair and put his hands on their shoulders.

"Why must you two always argue and fight with each other? I understand you have had a rough past, but when it comes to something like this then you should be able to find it in yourselves to put aside your differences and work together. Now, I agree with Tiram on the idea of riding to town and helping out the guard there. My only concern is the ash storm. Who knows if it's just a freak act of nature or if the blight really has cross here to High Rock." Mutte looked to both of his friends. After another handful of silent seconds, Thane finally released Tiram and stepped back. Both of them seemed to relax substantially afterward. Mutte then sighed with relief and gathered up his cloak. "There, now that's better. How about we get dressed up for the dreadful weather out there and head into town? Perhaps this may turn out to be a little bit of an adventure."

**The man standing** upon the hilltop that overlooked the temple and the town of Underhill smiled to himself. He may not have been able to retrieve the Elder Scroll like he had hoped, but he had at least sent the boy to his death. True, he had helped the boy escape from the prison, but if he had remained in the cell the he would have been completely safe from what was about to happen in Underhill. The ash storm continued to whip around his violently, but he knew it posed no danger to him. He was completely immune to the disease that the ash could plague a person with.

Then he remembered what he had seen after he had killed that pathetic moth priest. The men who had come into the study later that night, a swordsman and another mage by the looks of it, had a strong sense of fate about them. It wasn't just that, though. The Elder Scrolls spoke of a Hero of Heroes and that he would choose the fate of all Tamriel. The man knew it was his destiny to kill this boy before he had the chance to take up such a title for himself. _He_ was the Hero of the People, and it was the will of the People that this boy meets his end before his destiny is transformed into reality. Those two men, though they were mere mortals through his eyes, they were far more than that. They had their own great destinies, but he had yet to read a scroll that spoke of either of them. Perhaps they would face their destiny during the coming of the dragons, or perhaps they would fall along with all of Tamriel.

Something about those men also triggered a memory of his. One he had hoped to forget long ago. He was angered that they made him remember her, and he promised himself that if he ever met them again then he would be sure to make them suffer. For now, however, he would continue with his plans to rid the world of that boy before he became a Hero.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Molen and Adurhja had been escorted by a squad of armed guards to the prison where they were put into separate cells. Though that was the case, they were still close enough that they could speak to each other. Molen leaned on the door of his cell and reached his hands through. He nodded before pulling them back in. If a guard walked by he would have enough reach to grab him, and possibly get the key to escape in the process. He doubted, though, that he would have much time to do anything. The Bosmer race were known to be extremely agile, but they still were nowhere near as agile as a Khajiit. Molen leaned on his door so that he could be heard better by his friend. "Adurhja, I think I may need your help if we're to get out of here."

"Why must we escape from this place, friend. Surely your emperor will request for our release when he comes into the town." Molen smiled softly. He forgot that Adurhja never thought like an Imperial did in the ways of politics.

"Yes, I am sure that is something your kind would do for each other, but the emperor cannot afford something like that. If he admitted that one of his soldiers and his guide were now considered criminals under the laws of the Bosmer, this peace negotiation would most likely collapse under our own feet. No, it's better if we just try to escape and flee from the city. We'll catch up to the emperor's column once they leave the city." Molen sighed and stood up straight, walking away from the door. "Then again, Emperor Thudom is unlike any emperor this nation has seen in several centuries. Perhaps he would risk his reputation for our sakes. If that's the case then escaping would tarnish him even more so in the eyes of the Bosmer."

"Either way the Thalmor will order your execution, Imperial. You can be sure of that." This voice came from one of the other cells that Molen had thought was abandoned. He moved back to his door and peered out of it. He could see in the cell across from his that an aged Argonian was curled up defensively in a corner of his own cell. His eyes narrowed as he glared at the lizard-man who looked to have been native-born in the Argonian's homeland of Black Marsh.

"How do you figure that, Argonian?" Molen loathed the reptilian-humanoid race for a very personal reason, but he was in no position to give him commands or orders. He instead needed to hear him out. The Argonian stood from the corner and approached his door. Molen immediately noticed that fins that were arranged on the top of the lizard's head. They were brightly colored compared to his brown and green scale colors on the rest of his body. This was an odd trait, but it was something that spoke of an almost divine coincidence in the Argonian culture. At least that is what Molen believed from when he and his family had spent a decade studying the native Argonian tribes in Black Marsh.

"I saw you when you were escorted in, Imperial. You wore the armor of the Imperial Legion, and you bore the marks and badges of a personal guard of the emperor himself. The Thalmor now have a great deal of leverage that they can use against your emperor to place their own restrictions on the negotiation. If your emperor does not comply with their changes, then they will kill you." The Argonian race's facial structure limited them from physically showing their emotions, but the lizard's mouth twitched up some to resemble a smirk.

Molen's eyes narrowed more and his hands clenched into fists. "You're wrong. Emperor Thudom would never risk the safety of Cyrodiil for just one of his guards."

"But you just said that the emperor would risk his own reputation for your sake. Surely he would do the same in this situation." Now he knew that the Argonian was mocking him. Molen reassured himself though that the Argonian was lucky that there were two cell doors between them, else he'd kill him where he stood.

"I am sorry, my friend. Adurhja brought this all on you with his foolishness." Molen looked to his friend through the bars of his cell and smiled some.

"None of this is your fault, Adurhja. The Thalmor, for all we know, paid that boy to steal from us knowing that we'd retaliate and earn a place in jail. This way the emperor has to stall to find out what to do." He sighed and leaned against the door again.

The Argonian cleared his throat, getting the attention of both of his fellow prisoners. "I know of a way that you could get out of this prison and still let your precious emperor handle this negotiation his way."

Now Molen was intrigued. An Argonian who had seconds before mocked the empire was now offering agents of the Imperial Legion his help. He knew there was a catch to all of this, but it was worth listening to at least. "What did you have in mind, Argonian?" The lizard-man seemed to smirk again and reached in his pocket, pulling out three leaves of a plant Molen didn't recognize, even with three years of alchemical study at the Arcane University.

"With this. I assure you it will be perfectly safe, but these leaves will allow all three of us to escape from here." Molen looked to his friend, who shrugged his shoulders and twitched his tail. He then sighed and nodded his head.

"Fine. Tell us what we have to do then."

**The Bosmer guard chuckled** softly as he stepped into the corridor filled with jail cells. He had just finished discussing the impending fall of the empire, especially if the Thalmor's plan went well. They now had two agents of the emperor in their prison with charges of assaulting a Bosmer citizen, and they could easily use that to manipulate the peace negotiation in their favor. Or perhaps the Thalmor would use this as an excuse to ignore the negotiation completely and simply declare total war on the empire. Either way, they now held the empire by the throat and their grip would only tighten from here.

The guard walked to the Imperial's cell, preparing a series of verbal insults to throw in his face. He was hoping to spark some sort of frustration in the Imperial that would give him motivation to fight their authority. That would only serve the purpose of tarnishing the emperor's reputation further. It was perfect for the Thalmor's plan. He stepped up to the cell and saw that the Imperial was laying on the floor. The guard could not help but chuckle again. Men of the empire were pathetic when you stuck them in a cell.

"Get to your feet, Imperial. The captain has some questions to ask you." He waited a few moments but got absolutely no response from the prisoner. The guard narrowed his eyes and kicked the door. "I said get up!" The sound of the kick resounded off the walls of the cell, but still the Imperial laid motionless on the floor. Then the guard looked closely and his eyes widened then. He noticed that the prisoner wasn't even breathing and quickly unlocked the cell door. With a quick checking of the pulse, the guard accepted that the prisoner was now dead. Though how could a prisoner kill himself so effortlessly with no sign of hanging and no weapon on his body?

The guard stood from the Imperial's corpse and sighed. He might as well check on the other two prisoners, just in case they knew something. He went to the Khajiit's cell first, saving the Argonian for last. He never did like the lizards of Black Marsh much. Their eyes always seemed to hold a cold intelligence in them, as if they knew every fact about his life. For all he knew, they did.

"Time to wake up, kitty." His voice was softer this time, and when the Khajiit refused to respond, the guard wasted no time in unlocking his cell and checking the prisoner. This one was dead as well. He began to panic a little by now. With both of them dead, the Thalmor had no leverage to use against the emperor. If anything, this gave the emperor the leverage he needed to impose stricter rules to the negotiation. The Thalmor would have no choice but to agree to the negotiation unless they wished to be invaded by the full power of the empire. Though the guard knew the Imperials' realm was quickly dying away, he also knew a wild animal fought their hardest when they were cornered and weakened.

Out of duty, the guard stood and checked on the Argonian. He didn't bother to even say anything when he noticed that the lizard-man was laying face down as well. All three prisoners were dead. He had no other choice but to report it to the captain. Maybe they could dump the bodies into a ditch somewhere in the forest and claim that the soldiers had been abducted by some bandits. It would take some time to develop a story accurate enough to convince an emperor, but it could be done.

**Hours later**, the artificial poison of the draxin leaves wore off and the three prisoners began to move their stiff bodies. The Argonian was the first on his feet, stretching out his limbs and working the muscles of his jaw. Adurhja was the second one up, and it took Molen several seconds just to get on his hands and knees. He coughed heavily though was able to keep himself from vomiting, pushing himself onto his feet shakily afterward.

"You could have warned us that waking up from the poison would be this difficult." Molen began to moves his arms in circular motions, letting his joints go through their full range of motion.

"What did you expect from being essentially dead for several hours? That you would awake refreshed and ready to swing your arms like a monkey?" The Argonian began to look around at their surroundings, as if sniffing the air. "Good, we're several miles from the town. We should be able to make it back to your emperor without any patrols catching us along the way."

"Who exactly said that you could come along with us?" Molen and the Argonian then glared at each other. Adurhja looked at both of them and then stepped in between them.

"Please, my friend. This one helped us escape and has offered to continue helping us. You know that even though I am unarmed, I could keep this one from harming the emperor. You have nothing to fear from him." That was exactly the reason Molen didn't want the Argonian anywhere near the emperor, though. He _did _fear him. Instead of admitting that, he decided to follow his friend's lead and nodded his head.

"Very well. We'll take him to the emperor, and he can decide what to do with him." With that said, the three ex-prisoners began trekking through the woods of Valenwood.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Thane and Mutte walked in through the door that led into the prisoner, escorted by a pair of armed guards. The general turned to the guards and nodded his head. "Thank you, men. My friend and I will take it from here." The guards saluted them both before stepping back out of the building. It wasn't long before Thane and Mutte found their way to the corridor of cells that had housed the escaped criminal. A priest from the temple was already present and was studying two motionless bodies that were inside the cell. The priest was accompanied by a guard who turned and saluted both the general and the mage.

Both of them returned the salute before entering the cell. "Have you found out anything about how the criminal escaped?"

"We think so, sir." The guard returned to the priest and motioned down at one of the bodies. Thane leaned forward slightly and noticed how familiar the boy looked. It took him a few seconds until he finally grasped at who the boy reminded him of. "Somehow we hired a new kitchen aid that looked a lot like the prisoner, and he used his thieving skills to kill the boy and his guard companion to take the boy's place. This story has been verified by some of my men who have said that they saw the boy returning to the kitchen without his guard accompanying him."

"Then how did he escape from the kitchen? I heard that the cook, the cook's assistant, and a guard were all slaughtered during his break-out." Mutte examined the boy's body and Thane noticed a look on his friend's face that he hadn't seen ever since the Mage War. It was the look of grim determination. If Mutte found the criminal before Thane, he would no doubt pass a much harsher judgment of the boy than Thane would.

"That is exactly how, sir. He killed those three and walked out through the back door. One of the first things we did when we learned of his escape was to put the whole city under a watchful eye. No one is allowed to come into town or to leave for any reason until we catch him. If he hasn't already slipped past us, we'll catch him." The guard seemed proud of his work so far, but Thane thought differently.

"I apologize for stating this out loud, but that won't do. The people of Underhill depend on the trade routes and the farmlands outside of the walls, and they will most likely revolt before the month is through. Not only that, but the people will begin to starve from lack of food. Open the city gates back up and I will hunt him down myself with a band of soldiers. Until then, just do your job and keep this city safe from bandits and Breton rebels." Thane knew from experience that if you told a soldier that what he is doing is wrong, he loses all faith in himself but that he will also strive to do better if you give him a different task to accomplish.

"Of course, sir. I will do as you command." The guard bowed his head slightly and was about to leave the room until Thane grabbed his arm firmly.

"Before I forget, there is one man I want you to particularly keep an eye out for. I barely saw any part of him, but he wore a dark colored cloak and had the hood up. I believe he was of Dunmer origin. I also know that he is capable of using incredible powers, so if there comes a man like that and causes some trouble around town, you have permission to use any force necessary to end his life. Understood?" The guard looked at Thane questioningly for a few moments before smiling and nodding his head.

"I understand completely, sir."

**Mutte followed the priest** from the Moth Temple as the investigation at the prison continued, letting himself be lead to the kitchen where the bodies of the cook, the cook's assistant, and a guard were being gathered up for proper burials. Through the air inside of the kitchen, Mutte knew that powerful had been used to allow the boy's escape from the prison. Magic that he knew to be long forgotten. How could a boy use such power if the style of magic was meant to be lost and forgotten for several centuries?

Then the aged mage caught onto something that could help further explain what happened. He learned once that whenever a mage of great power cast a spell, the winds of magic carried with them that mage's magical scent. Mutte always believed himself to be an expert at detecting these scents and identifying them, but this one was unfamiliar. He knew he had caught it before, but he just could not place the mage with the scent.

"That is very strange," the priest spoke aloud in a corner of the kitchen. "The books have spoken of this scent only once before."

Mutte turned to the priest eagerly. "You are able to identify magical scents as well? That is not a common ability among us magic-wielders."

"You are correct there, my friend, but more of us are beginning to grow that skill. Perhaps it is a effect left over from the Mage War." The priest began to pace in a wide circle around the room, and Mutte simply watched him. Then something changed in the air. It was a sudden electrical charge had been sent through the entire room. The hairs on Mutte's beard stood at their ends and the priest grew completely still. "By the Nine."

"What was that?" Mutte turned his head and caught a shadow fleeing through the hallway. He watched it go but decided that it wasn't worth tracking down, instead turning back to the priest.

"It was an ancient summoning spell, used by the same mage that had done all of this." Now Mutte could identify the scent of the magic much more clearly, and he remembered where he remembered it from. The previous night when they had found Gudo in his study, the intruder had this magical scent all around him. That could only mean the one thing Mutte was afraid to admit to him and especially to Thane. The new Nerevarine had a hand in all of this.

**Tiram cursed** when her horse jerked underneath her. The movement nearly threw her out of the saddle, but she held on and patted her mount's neck soothingly. "It's okay, girl. I'll get you out of this ash storm as soon as I can." She then sighed and sat up straight in the saddle, relaxing when she felt the horse loosen its muscles. The Imperial courier turned her head and looked back at the city gate of Underhill over her shoulder. The guards still stood at attention with their spears at ready, awaiting her return from her search. "I guess I better get on with it." Tiram pulled up her face mask and directed the horse into the storm.

It didn't take long before she could hardly see her hand in front of her face in the storm, following the road only by sheer luck. Her horse also was obviously against going deeper into the storm, but she had a duty to find the criminal. In her years of being a courier for the Imperial Legion, she had also learned many tracking techniques that would let her stalk and essentially capture an escaped criminal like this. She would just have to wait until they broke through the storm so that she could see more clearly.

As she rode through the hard currents of ash, she had a lot of time to think. She remembered the words that Thane had said to her, and her grip on the reins tightened. It was true that she was used to running away from all of her troubles, but not this time. She would see this through to the end even if things got a little dangerous. She had lost the love of her life because of her cowardice, and then had lost her father in the same way. Granted one was possibly killed during the Mage War and the other had been a target of the Dark Brotherhood, but she could have helped either one of them if she had only stayed.

Tiram was brought out of her thoughts when her horse suddenly stopped, its breath growing deep and rapid. She looked up and noticed that her mount's head was tilted to one side, as if it were watching something carefully. It took her awhile but a break in the ash storm opened up and she caught sight of a young person off in the distance. She smiled to herself and snapped the reins hard, giving an encouraging yelp to help her mount move forward. Her horse drove forward swiftly and they cut through the winds of the storm, very quickly catching up with the figure she had seen earlier.

The figure turned and Tiram saw the glint of steel, throwing herself out of her saddle just in time as a dagger flew past her. She barely had time to lift herself off the ground before the figure tackled her back the ground. The two of them wrestled on the ground for several seconds before finally the stranger, a young boy in his teens by the build and voice of him, grabbed the advantage. He pinned Tiram to the ground with his knees and one hand, pounding his fist into her face. Spots filled the courier's vision and she barely registered it when the boy's fist came down the second time. This time she could taste blood.

"I will never go back there," the boy said in a rough voice. He then stood up from her bruised body, kicking his boot down into her stomach once before rushing over to grab his dagger from where it landed. Tiram's vision began to darken and she could only watch as the boy sheathed his dagger and mounted her horse with amazing agility. The boy then kicked his heels into the horse's side, driving it forward and rushing into the ash storm and out of sight.

Tiram laid there for several minutes, praying to the Nine Divine that someone would come for her. After those minutes, she accepted that no one would come and willed herself to stand. It took several seconds but she was able to do it with only a little effort. The boy had damaged her body much less than she had realized at first. She cursed herself again for being so weak and started walking back in the direction she believed would lead her back to Underhill. Though she may not have caught the boy and had only succeeded in giving him a faster means of travel, she had the authority to pass a warrant on him. By the time she was healthy back in Underhill, every guard and bounty hunter would be out for this boy's head.

**The guard posted** at the west gate of Underhill sighed and wiped his mouth. It was his first week on the job and it was just his luck that he had to work his shift through an ash storm. He spat out some ash that had made it into his open mouth, coughing when only more of it blew into his face. Finally taking the advice of his superiors, he brought up his cloth face mask and breathed deeply in relief. He closed his eyes for a second and listened to the wind. It was something he had enjoyed doing ever since he was a child, and it still calmed his nerves to do so.

When he opened his eyes again, there stood a stranger in front of him. The stranger was dressed in a robe and had the hood up which hid his face. According to duty, the guard readied his spear and spoke in his most intimidating voice. "Who goes there?" The stranger said nothing and instead took a step forward. The guard tensed up and tightened his grip on his spear. "Halt and answer my question, stranger!" Again, the stranger advanced without a word.

The rules of engagement for a guard was that if a suspicious stranger refused to cooperate after two warnings, the guard had permission to use any force necessary to stop him. So the guard rushed forward with his spear leveled at the stranger's heart. When he was no more than two feet away from hitting his mark, the stranger waved his hand to one side. The guard flew to the side that the stranger waved to and hit the ground hard. The stranger advanced on the guard, and he knew from the look in the man's eyes that he would not survive for much longer. Though he knew he did not stand a chance against this stranger, he could alert the town to the presence of danger.

The last thing the guard saw was a bright light forming in the palm of his own hand. He held it up and smirked up at the stranger, feeling triumphant when he noticed the stranger's look of surprise. It was meant as a fireball spell, but he willed the magic to collapse on itself and this caused his spell to have a very different effect. At that moment, the people in Underhill were shocked when the ground shook beneath their feet and a large explosion ripped open the western gate of the walls.

**Thane rushed out** into the street from the prison and looked to the west, cursing under his breath when he saw the smoke mixing in with the winds of the ash storm. Mutte was quick to join him outside and together they dashed for the west gates. People were panicking in the streets and many of them tried to stop the general and mage to ask them questions, but they pushed their way through. Only about two minutes after the explosion had gone off, they had arrived at the hole in the wall. Through the smoke and the rubble, both of them could see the one person they hoped they never would have so soon.

Mutte wasted no time in throwing spell after spell at the Nerevarine, but the Hero anticipated each attack it seemed and dodged most of the ones he didn't seem to just simply absorb. Thane unsheathed his sword and dagger both and charged forward. The magical assault continued which kept the Nerevarine busy while Thane closed the distance between them. Just as the general was about to slash the Hero's stomach open, his sword was met by the Nerevarine's own sword. Thane was stunned by what he saw in his enemy's hand. It was a scimitar of Dwemer make with a red flame surrounding the whole blade of the weapon. If he needed any proof that this being was the Nerevarine, it was that sword. Trueflame, or better known as the sword of Nerevar.

"My fight is not with the two of you just yet," the Nerevarine said before waving his left hand. Thane felt himself being thrown away from his opponent and land on the ground beside Mutte who had been thrown aside as well. When they had both scrambled back up to their feet, the Nerevarine was gone. Thane, who had thought he finally had the chance to avenge Gudo's death, screamed in defiance. Mutte merely watched wordlessly as the skies over Underhill began to clear up.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Nearly a week after his escape from Underhill's prison, Ellum finally made it to a city he once heard was considered a haven for wanted criminals. He had heard this story from his thieving mentor who had learned from the infamous Gray Fox, so Ellum believed this was a completely legitimate place to hide out at least for a while. Skyguard, the city that stood at the end of a bridge leading from the islands to the mainland of High Rock, the cliff-face that dropped down to the ocean riddled with opening where soldiers were posted as patrolmen. The islands beyond Skyguard perhaps would be an even better place to hide, but Ellum was growing tired even though he now had a mount to speed up his travels.

The city of Skyguard had been constructed during the Mage War to serve as a post for the Bretons along the coastal border of Skyguard. Because of its given name, the city watched the skies for incoming siege fire. Magical devices built by the Bretons were set up all over the city so that with only a spark of magic, a dome-like shield would raise over the city and they could launch an effective counter-assault while taking very little damage itself. This was certainly the case during the Mage War, since Skyguard had a large enough military force at its disposal that wiping it off the map would give the Imperial Legion a considerable advantage. Though the Imperials never did conquer Skyguard, it was also brought under Imperial rule during the negotiations at the close of the Mage War.

Ellum sighed as he snapped the reins a little, the horse moving wearily underneath him. He wasn't the only one tired from the ceaseless traveling. The streets of Skyguard were filled with every race imaginable, from the slightly muscular Bosmer people to the large and bulky Orcs. Imperials had small street vendors set up on the main roads, and Breton elders performed magical tricks in the air for laughing and applauding children. With how much death Ellum had seen in the past week, having to defend himself from several bandits along the way, it was somehow peaceful to see how ignorant these people were of the ugly world outside of Skyguard's walls.

The young thief turned his head when he noticed a small Imperial girl dressed in rags kneeling in the opening to an alley. She lifted her head and the two of them locked eyes for several seconds, and Ellum was a little stunned when the girl smiled. He turned away and focused on finding a tavern for the night. With how many bandits he had to kill in the past week, he had accumulated quite a bit of wealth. A rather fancy bag, which was more of a coin purse that clipped onto his belt, held all of his money which he had approximated to roughly five-hundred septims. Fortunately High Rock was now an official nation of the empire Tamriel, and so now the official currency were septims. Otherwise he would have had to settle for trading.

It didn't take much longer for Ellum to find a respectable looking inn. The structure was a three-story building with windows on each floor and a finely painted sign hanging over the front door. The name was carved and outlined with gold paint, and the thief smiled softly at the obvious choice that the owner had named it. The Noble's House was its name, and he figured it was quite fitting. The colors of the building included blues and yellows, both of those very usual colors for a member of the noble class. Ellum brought his horse close to the entrance and hopped down out of the saddle just as a rather large Imperial stepped out, brushing his hands off on his flour dusted apron.

"Ah, a visitor! So good to see you, fair sir!" The man stepped forward and clasped Ellum's hand roughly, shaking it much more vigorously than the young man was used to. He then took one look over the boy's shoulder, noticing the horse, and turned his head towards the stables set up beside the inn. "Get this man's horse, boy!"

Ellum took a look towards the stable, noticing that a boy who had been sleeping in a pile of hay was shaken awake by the innkeeper's booming voice. The boy was outside swiftly and bowed low, moving forward to take the horse's reins. Without another word from the innkeeper, the boy led Ellum's horse away into the stables. "Come inside with me, good sir. I'll get you some food and wine." With that said, the young man was led into the Noble's House. What he didn't know was that further down the street, the little girl was still watching him.

**The bed that Ellum** had rented in the Noble's House was perhaps the best bed he had ever slept in. Even his house back in Underhill, which he could barely afford to live in after his parents abandoned him, had lumpy beds. He never had figured out why the mattresses had such odd shapes to them, and now he didn't much care to find out. Sleep took him very quickly when he laid in the bed. He was stripped of everything but his pants, even his dagger laying aside with his shirt and cloak. Ellum felt no need to arm himself in his sleep here in Skyguard even if the rumors were true of the city harboring even the worst escaped criminals.

Just as a dream was about to occupy his mind, he heard the slightest of noises that didn't belong in the room. The scraping of wood against wood perhaps. From what was in the room, he could only assume that it was the window. It was only there for a single second but Ellum would have been dead by now if he had second-guessed his instincts. Instead, the young thief rolled onto his side slowly to make it look like he was adjusting his position during sleep and reached for his nearby dagger in the darkness.

Then, with a good grip on the hilt of his dagger, Ellum turned his head slightly to peek at the window. Though it was only opened a few inches he could make out a figure crawling in through the gap. He watched it for a few seconds until he realized that the intruder was actually crawling out, and it held his coin purse in its hands. Ellum's heart thudded heavily and he sat upright quickly, throwing his dagger at the escaping thief. His weapon nicked the thief's calf and by the sound of the yelp, he knew it was a girl who then fell the rest of the way out of the window and to the ground outside. Days ago he would have hated the _thud_ that came from the fall, but now he was indifferent about the whole thing. All he knew was that the girl had his money.

Ellum went to the window and skillfully leaped out, landing and rolling on the ground to distribute the shock throughout his whole body. He was expecting to the find the girl either crippled or dead on the ground, but instead found only a trail of blood leading down the street. A curse left his lips and he ran down the street as fast as his legs could carry him, following the blood trail. The trail led him in a complex pattern that doubled on itself often. Apparently the thief knew she was going to be followed.

The trail finally thinned out when it came to an alleyway, and Ellum slowed to a carefully paced walk. If this girl got cornered then she was going to fight however she could so he would need a weapon of his own. He looked around and found a glass bottle. With a grunt of acceptance, he grabbed the bottle by the neck and smashed it against one of the walls. He was satisfied with the outcome of the makeshift weapon, keeping a firm hold on it as he walked further down the alley.

Just as he had expected, the alley ended in a dead end and the thief was frantically looking for a way to escape other than the way she came. Ellum gripped the bottle neck tighter and spoke through clenched teeth. "It wasn't the smartest idea to steal from me, little girl." The girl turned to face him and Ellum was expecting her to surrender to whatever judgment he wished to place on her, but instead she rushed forward and tackled him to the ground. Much like when he had wrestled that agent from the Imperial Legion, the both of them rolled around on the ground. Each of them tried to get an advantage over the other, but he wasn't about to let her escape. He feigned exhaustion and this made the girl make a very big mistake. She tried taking advantage of that to escape, but in the last second he grabbed her wounded calf and pulled her back to the ground.

The girl yelped again from the pain of the grab and of the landing, but she had little time to react before Ellum had her pinned under neath him and held the edge of the broken bottle against her throat. He was just about to slit her neck open when he saw her eyes. They were familiar to him. It didn't take him long until he realized that he recognized the girl. It was the homeless girl he had seen riding into town.

**Later into the night,** Ellum and the girl sat across from each other in the alleyway. They had been talking after he had helped the girl up off the ground and she had returned his money. From the information she had given him, her name was Juden and both of her parents had been killed during the Mage War. This came as shock because this made her at least as old as him if not older.

"After my parents both died during the Mage War, I was left all alone here. It wasn't long before the lord in charge of Skyguard decided that he needed more money to finish the devices that now protect the city. This led to my homelessness since he reclaimed and then sold my parents' house at a much higher price than my family had built it with decades ago." Juden had a very defeated look to her. Though this was the case, Ellum still kept a close watch on her.

"That's when you met the others," Ellum finished the story for her. Juden nodded her head slowly, perking up a little.

"Yes. That is when I met the others of our small gang. They took me in without question and taught me how to survive on the streets. They're my new family." This was something the young man was not at all familiar with. Though there certainly were other thieves in Underhill, he had never been close to any of them. The greatest extent to which they interacted was to look at each other wordlessly when they were both going after the same item. It would then be the senior thief's privilege to steal the item himself, but this did not mean the younger thief was restricted from stealing it from his fellow thief later. The thievery system in Underhill was a dull system of understanding but it never included any sense of cooperation. Apparently Skyguard was very different in that way, at least.

Ellum suddenly noticed that Juden had asked him a question while he was busy with his own thoughts, and she was still staring at him expectantly. "Sorry, I didn't hear you." The girl smiled softly and the young man felt his breath catch. Her smile was absolutely stunning, and it lit her face up which made her look much more beautiful than she had at first seemed.

"I asked what is was like for you, back in Underhill. I heard that it was one of the first cities to fall under the banner of the Imperial Legion." Juden leaned forward when Ellum took the breath to answer her. He felt a little embarrassed by her interest in him. The pretty girls back in Underhill had never really given him much attention unless it came to cooperative training. He was perhaps the most skilled student under General Thane and everyone strove to be his partner so that they looked good as well in the general's eyes. Other than that he had been ignored for the most part. Now the most beautiful girl he knew was giving him her full attention. It gave his chest a tight squeezing feeling which made it hard for him to breathe, but it was a feeling that he wanted to last forever.

"My parents were also drafted into the war, but after the negotiations they never returned. A lot of people told me that they died, but I doubt it. I think that they were just too scared to return to their old lives and thus abandoned me to my fate. Naturally I had to find someway to survive on my own and immediately took up thieving. I was lucky enough to be taken under the wing of a mentor, though. He himself had been taught by the Gray Fox." Suddenly Juden's eyes went wide and she scrambled forward. Her face was only inches from his now.

"Your mentor was taught by the Gray Fox? That is so amazing! Did you ever get to meet him?" The young girl's previous calm demeanor had completely changed now. At the moment she was acting much more like an innocent child who was being told a story.

Ellum could not help but smile at this. "Meet him? Sure I did. Part of my initiation was to steal a ring from his pocket." Juden beckoned him onward with his story silently, and so he continued. "My mentor said that if I were to ever be a good thief, I had to at least try to steal from the best. I was surprised by how easy it was at first. It was a simple matter of stalking him to his hiding place and waiting for him to disrobe for bed that night. The hardest part was finding the Gray Fox."

"How did you pull that off? I hear the Gray Fox can turn himself invisible at will." Her voice was now higher pitched and had taken on a very childlike quality.

"In all honesty, I got lucky. I tried at least ten different houses until I finally found the right pair of pants with the right ring in it." Ellum chuckled softly, realizing just how ridiculous the story must sound. "Though I never did get caught in the process, and so technically the job was a success. The Gray Fox himself congratulated me for pulling off a heist on him and let me keep the ring. I still wear it to this day." With that said, he held up his right hand to show off the thick silver ring that he had on his index finger. The print of the Gray Fox's initials were inscribed on the face of the ring, surrounded by a complex design of leaves and vines.

Juden's wide eyes told of her interest as he inspected the ring, and Ellum could tell what she wanted to ask him just from the way she looked at him. He nodded his head and removed the ring from his finger and placed it in Juden's palm. She examined it from all angles, all the while keeping a smile on her face. Either she was genuinely interested in the ring or she was an excellent actress. Then the girl looked up at him, and he could tell she was about to ask him a question. "Do you mind if I show this to the other thieves? I promise on my life that I will return it to you."

Ellum was a little shocked by what she asked of him. Surely she knew what it meant to him. Then he thought of a way that this could become an advantage of his. If he was to stay in Skyguard, even temporarily, then it wouldn't hurt to get to know the local thieves. So he nodded his head and snatched the ring out of Juden's hand before she could react. "Of course, but under one condition. You take me with you to meet this family of thieves." Juden seemed to ponder on the idea for a few seconds before smiling a little and nodding her head excitedly.

"Alright, then. I'm sure they will all be thrilled to meet a fellow thief all the way from Underhill. I especially think Grong will be excited to meet you." To Ellum's surprise, Juden then giggled and grabbed his hand. Before he could say anything, protesting or otherwise, he was dragged out of the alleyway by the very girl who minutes ago had just tried to steal from him. The whole situation seemed a bit humorous and so he allowed himself to smile and laugh a bit.

**Author Note**

This is the end of Part One of novel one, and this is the end to the chapters I will be submitting on a public site. If anyone wishes for later chapters can pm me their email and I will gladly send the later chapters to them when they are finished. Thank you to everyone for reading these chapters and I hope you all support me when I decide to go to Bethesda when this is ready for publishing!


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